“Oh, yes, quite. Just press that button by the fireplace—the bell will indicate you’ve finished.” Leslie left the room.
As Maisie gave instructions to the operator, she knew that, as far as Gilbert Leslie was concerned, the game was up. He must have guessed by now that she was not Edwina Donat—in fact she suspected he had known for some time, but kept his own counsel. Or he’d had his suspicion confirmed through channels leading to Brian Huntley’s office. As she waited for the connection, Maisie felt as if the ground under her feet were becoming less stable with each passing second.
“Brian Huntley.”
“It’s Edwina Donat here. I have news.”
“Be careful, Miss Donat. Let me remind you that ‘secure’ is a rather loose term with regard to telephony.”
“I’ll have to do my best and take my chances.” Maisie paused, and looked around the room. She knew she was alone, but experience had taught her to double-check. “I have found what I was looking for, and I am ready to return. In fact I have found more than expected. I’ve an additional package to bring home.”
“Urgent?”
“Very.”
“I will arrange for passage on the first flight out to Rome tomorrow, and from there to Paris. Are documents required?”
“Yes—but only for the original package. Perhaps our friend Mr. Leslie can expedite issue of the letter of transit required to leave the country and enter another. And travel cannot be by commercial service.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“There has been a stroke of bad luck.”
Silence.
“All right. Now it’s I who’ll have to take the chance that this bloody telephone is working as it should.” Maisie heard Brian Huntley’s very audible sigh. “We’ve had to increase our oversight in the past few days. Your hosts are cock-a-hoop about their incursion into Austria, and are becoming rather more ambitious. On the one hand, we can take advantage of their ebullience, and on the other, we have to tread carefully, for the snake is ever more confident about his bite. Is a train out of the question? I was under the impression that you would not fly.”
“The train offers too many opportunities for us to be intercepted even after it’s under way. I want the two passengers to leave Munich no later than mid-morning tomorrow—the earlier the better, for their safety.”
“Rather a tall order, Maisie.”
“Let Mr. Leslie know what you can do—and you might as well put him out of his misery and allow him to know who I am. I am sure he has guessed. After all, Robbie said he was one of yours, so we’re probably passing each other through smoke and mirrors. In the meantime, I might have another option regarding transportation. If so, I will decline your offer, as I have to grasp the very first opportunity to leave Munich. I’ll end the call now.”
Maisie pressed the cradle bar to end the call. While the receiver was still in her hand. The telephone began to ring. Maisie released the bar, and heard the operator ask if she would like to place another secure telephone call.
She was surprised, but didn’t hesitate. “Yes, thank you.” She gave the operator a number and heard a click. The tone changed, and she replaced the receiver. After a moment, and the telephone rang once more.
“Otterburn.” The voice was sharp, to the point, that of a man who had neither time nor patience enough to linger.
“Mr. Otterburn. I would like your help.”
“Mais—”
“Mr. Otterburn, I am calling from within the British consulate in Munich. I have been told the line is secure, but I would not like to bet my life on it. I cannot dance around with words, though; it takes too much time.”
“Right you are. How can I help?”
Maisie knew she had his full attention now. “I am in need of private transportation from Munich to London or Paris. I do not want my passengers to travel via Rome, or through any other country where political sympathies lie with the chancellor. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I do not envisage any difficulty with your request.”
“I’m not quite there yet. One of our number is an invalid, and the other—you may be interested to know—is a young woman to whom you are related.”
There was a silence on the line. When Otterburn spoke again, his voice was cracking, revealing an emotion Maisie had not expected.
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. As early as you can manage it.”
“It’s tight, but I can make the arrangements. Where can I reach you?”
“I’ll reach you. I’ll place a call from a telephone kiosk, just to be on the safe side, but we will have to be quick with our conversation.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll expect to hear from you in an hour.”
Maisie ended the call, returned the receiver to its cradle, and put her head in her hands.